Dark Wings Carry Dark Dreams
by Alpha Luna
Summary: A simple heist which was to help Felix Spurius,thief and cut throat back to his feet in a new land goes wrong, and his life descends into the depths of madness, horror, and pure nightmare.


26th of Heartfire, Loredas, 4E

The crisp moist air filled the nose of Felix Spurius, Imperial cutthroat and thief, as he ran up the dirty winding path to the town of Riften. With mercenaries in close pursuit, he put on a burst of speed, fleeing through a storm of falling leaves, his feet crunching over the motley collection of red,orange, and yellow. It was a dark morning; the sun was only beginning to rise from the hills at his back, and Felix could make out the town walls zooming in closer. Just a few more seconds…

Felix finally made it near Riften's main gatehouse, where he could see the growing sunlight glint off the closed helms of the guards silently watching the spectacle below them.

'Open the gates! I'm being chased by brigands!' Felix shouted desperately.

Felix's pleas for help were only met with more silence. Notorious for corruption, the Riften guards were apparently waiting for him to be killed before they drove off his pursuers, obviously so that they could loot whatever they wanted from the corpses. Felix turned to see his pursuers, who were at first wary of approaching the gatehouse, were now confident the town guards would not interfere with their hunt. There were eight of them in total, all wearing a variety of iron and fur armour, the former were engraved with laurel designs currently popular in Cyrodil. A short figure wearing a set of iron armour stepped forward to address him, and Felix recognized the forlorn face of Gallus Manlius, the son of the murdered Frisca Manlius, albeit with a more haggard and pained face that was much different from that of the shy green boy he met in the Imperial City. Felix drew his dagger, an action which received a few laughs from the mercenaries until Gallus cut them off with a wave of his hand.

'Felix Spurius, today you will answer for the murder of my father.' Gallus stated quietly. So quietly that Felix could barely hear his words 

Gallus continued speaking. 'Drop your dagger, tell us where you've taken my family's heirlooms, and I promise you we shall grant you the decency of a quick death, upon the honor of my family I promise this.'

Good Gallus, the death of his father did not have much effect on his quiet, concise, and rigid speech. Felix cleared his throat and spat on the ground in an act of defiance. When he was last in the Imperial city, Felix had infiltrated the Manlius household and was forced to murder the head of the rich merchant household (none other than Frisca) when caught stealing its heirlooms. He escaped by posing as a servant, slipping past Frisca's son Gallus, who now hunted him all the way across Cyrodiil and Skyrim for his crime. Gallus had sold all his family assets and his fortune to hire a small army to hunt Felix down. The thief had spent many a night with his hand clutching his dagger, always paranoid and wary of Gallus's determination to take the law into his own hands. Fleeing into Skyrim had not helped, and Felix had hoped to hide within the bowels of Riften, deep within the Ratways, where his pursuers would lose his scent and he could shake Gallus off of him for good. Finally it seemed the long chase had come to its end, but not in the way he had wanted it to.

Felix took a step towards Gallus. 'Come closer boy, I'll have to whisper it into your ears, don't want your sellswords to hear it too do ya?'' Felix sneered. Gallus's face remained blank and cold, so Felix took another step nearer, now only a spears length away from him. 'Truth be told boy, I sold all of your rich family's heirlooms to buy myself some new trinkets, but I had to ditch them all seeing as you had your ever so dutiful mind set up in chasing me across the whole of bloody Tameriel. I'm poor now boy, as poor as a bloody temple mouse.'Felix had spoke loudly enough for the guards above to hear

The tip of Gallus's greatsword was resting on the road, his gauntleted hands were tightening around the hilt. Felix was busy wondering if he could rush in to cut the spoiled boy's throat before he managed to heft up that ridiculous overly large blade. The thief and the merchant's son stood in the wind, silently watching one another to see who would move first. Beads of sweat collected on the edge of Felix's brow, even though the morning cold was chilling him to the bone. The guards of Riften stood motionless above, ever watchful.

Gallus finally made one last assertion 'You made your choice Felix, whether or not you tell me it makes no difference, justice shall have its due, and my father will be avenged.' With that he raised his sword in a defensive posture, both hands tight around the hilt with his left foot placed forward. Felix gazed at his opponent's shoulders, no longer bothering to look the boy in the eyes. The slightest twitch of the shoulders would tell him when and where the boy would strike. He held his knife out in a foregrip, with his other hand half clenched behind it, ready to grapple with one of the boy's arms in case he made an opening. He slowly advanced towards the boy, frozen dirt and leaves crunching under his worn boots. A look of disbelief flickered over Gallus's face; disbelief that a cowardly thief armed with a tiny knife wearing a bundle of rotting furs would dare make an offensive move against an armoured swordsman. Gathering his wits, the boy moved to the offensive and struck first, swinging his blade in a horizontal arc. Felix saw the movement and had already hopped back, rushing forward again after the deadly blade had passed. Gallus was about to countersweep his failed stroke, but thought better of it, lashing out his armoured foot in a slow but vicious metal kick. Smiling, Felix had already stepped lightly to one side into a crouch, where he deftly caught the raised limb in one arm, and neatly plunged his knife into the back of the boy's kneecap, where the gap in the armour which was designed to allow flexibility of the leg ended up being its wearer's undoing. The knife had bit through the boys flesh, slicing in all the way to the blades hilt before Felix twisted the knife to sever as much of Gallus's knee ligaments he could. Gallus fell back screaming, forcing Felix to let go of the jammed blade or be dragged down with him. The nearby mercenaries began to move forward to defend their client, the biggest and meatiest of them was charging towards the unfortunate thief. Felix knew that his life was now only measured by a matter of seconds, and decided to spend them cursing his foul luck, but just as the charging mercenary brought up his axe for a swing, feathers seemed to sprout from his throat. As the mercenary crashed to the ground gurgling blood Felix realized the feathers were arrow shafts. He looked on in pleasure as more arrows landed amongst the mercenaries, dealing death to all but three, the most heavily armoured of them all. The remaining mercenaries grabbed Gallus's arms and dragged him to safety; one more sellsword went down screaming as his back was riddled with arrows. Felix turned to see the gates of Riften noisily creak open, spilling forth a few town guards with closed helms and weapons at the ready.  
>"Thanks for the help boys, you sure ga-' Felix excitedly began, but shut up when he realized the guards weren't paying any attention to him. They had already sheathed their weapons and were busy looting the dead mercenaries, or cutting the short the pitiful pleas of those half alive.<p>

'We deemed it more profitable if the rich brat's men were relieved of their burdens instead of some little fish. Bait for a bigger catch.' A raspy voice spoke out.  
>Felix turned to see a weathered bald man leaning casually against the gates, smiling amusedly at him, as if he had witnessed a child ask his mother a stupid question. The man wore the armour of a Riften guard, and yet from his posture and facial expression looked as if he wouldn't give two shits about adding Felix to the pile of corpses outside the gates.<br>'Go on through,' the bald man continued, 'we heard everything, and the lads here are a bit preoccupied with their official duties.' With that he gave Felix a big smile, showing off his plaque stained teeth.  
>Felix passed through under the gates, feeling the bald mans beady eyes burn into the back of his head.<br>He weaved his way through the town, passing the marketplace before going down a flight of wooden rickety steps that would take him to a door. From there, it was only a short walk through the Ratways before he would make it to his final destination, The Ragged Flagon.


End file.
